Backstories
by Blame The Editor
Summary: The introduction of the night guards inside Five Nights At Freddy's: Eggs Benedict in Sister Location, Jeremy Fitzgerald in FNAF 2, David Harrison in FNAF Pizzeria Simulator, James Stiller in FNAF 3, Caleb White in FNAF 4, not to mention Scott Cawthon as the voice over the phone, and Vincent Wright as the murderer. Rating details and warnings are at the beginning of each chapter.
1. Eggs Benedict

Hello, hello!

As you may have noticed, there have been a few changes made since the last time we've been on . We have not switched writers, nor are we spotting production on the stories we have made. We have branched out a little, and it simply took us a little time to come back, and for that we sincerely apologize.

Out of everything we've joined and looked through, this website has been by FAR our favorite. You're supportive, amazing, and just wonderful people all around. And for that we truly do thank you. Thank you for sticking by our sides when we essentially disappeared off the face of the earth without another word.

Just know we are back, and we are staying, as well as with a few 'upgrades'. And said upgrades start out with 'Backstories', and unintentional spamming. Lots of spamming...

NOW! just so you know what will happen, we have an AU based around _Five Nights At Freddy's_ we have been working on for a long time. Said AU starts here, at 'Backstories', and will continue past. We will state something is 'canon' or 'non-canon' if you would like to follow along. If you don't, we completely understand. Hopefully you enjoy our writing for what it is.

However, the rules for everything still apply. If you have any suggestions or comments about how to improve our writing, possibly even an idea, please don't hesitate. Any feedback toward anything and we will happily apply it. It's the reason why we have specific warnings as well as a rating. Each chapter is different and therefore we try and help you the best we possibly can.

Again, thank you so much for everything. We didn't mean for that to be a long spill, but we have missed this comminittee. But, we hope you enjoy what we have in store for you. And we wish you a wonderful night.

* * *

 **NOT SUITABLE FOR ALL AGES**

 ** **WARNINGS****  
 _ _Frequent cursing  
Mentions of death  
Mentions of murder  
Action of harming someone__

 ** **DISCLAIMER****  
 _ _This is based upon the video game franchise__ Five Nights At Freddy's _ _, all rights for the characters and the world they interact inside belong solely to Scott Cawthon. We own nothing but the writing.  
Please give credit to those who deserve it. Thank you.__

* * *

"Welcome, Eggs Benedict."

"Yep, that's my name. I, Eggs Benedict, are a humanized breakfast dish!"

"We do not appreciate sarcasm in this establishment. If you proceed to use this form of communication-"

"You'll shock me using the badge I have pinned to my shirt, yada, yada, yada. Do it already, will ya?" Eggs grins, though tense as he prepares for the pain to come.

The blonde man was hired three weeks ago to work at Circus Baby's Entertainment and Rental for 'janitorial duties'. He didn't expect a lot when he was hired, and without so much as an interview, but the place was more out of whack than he could possibly imagine.

Animatronics that sure seemed like they wanted to kill you. Technicians here and there getting hanged inside the different rooms. Needing to shock said animatronics in order to do his job...a whole lot more of that kind of bull shit.

Speaking of shocks.

"I'M SLOWLY TURNING INSANE!" Eggs exclaims almost enthusiastically when his HandUnit electrocutes him.

On his first week the mechanic only got shocked due to him being hesitant about 'administering a controlled shock to properly motivate the animatronics'. Lately, however, the AI has gotten at tad __too__ power happy with the technology.

Now him and the animatronics were all in the same boat. Forced to come down to the living hell disguised as a workshop for repairs deep underground at night to get shocked at least once.

"Proceed to the primary control module."

"On it, Sadistic Disembodied Voice," the man salutes before carefully kneeling down and crawling into the vent to get to where he needs to go.

Thanks to his extremely tiny frame and nimble body he never has to worry about getting stuck inside of the vent openings. Though crawling through said vents wouldn't be needed per say if they fixed the yellow caution taped hallway. But hey, who was he to complain when it's his job to use it every single night…

With a grunt of pain he stands up after entering the primary control module. As HandUnit tells him he needs to check on Ballora, the janitor sighs at seeing her not on her stage.

"Uh-oh. It looks like Ballora doesn't feel like dancing." HandUnit supplies.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," Eggs smirks. He waits for a moment until he gets a controlled shock of his own. Once it passes he then shocks the ballerina, breathing out relieved at seeing her back on stage after only one shock.

"Excellent. Ballora is feeling like her old self ag-"

" _ _Or__ you're just a bastard who wants to shock the poor animatronics to get kicks out of your shitty life." Another shock, this time without a warning. "Dude! Tell a guy next time you pull shit like that!"

"Let's check on FuntimeFoxy," is all that's said in favor of ignoring Eggs' comment for the mistreatment. The blonde man glares and flickers on the light for Funtime Auditorium, unable to help a smile at seeing the white and pink fox pressed up right against the window.

"Eggs!" she exclaims.

"Hey Foxster. How are you tonight?"

"I'm good! I got to see sooooo many kids today! They were all so excited and it was awesome!"

"I'm really glad to hear that. Now, are you gonna go on your stage or are we both gonna get zapped?"

"I'll go," FuntimeFoxy whines. Eggs grins when she disappears from view and allows the light to turn off so HandUnit can see she's on stage.

"Great job FuntimeFoxy. We knew we could count on you!" the AI appraises.

"Do the noise!" she calls as Eggs listens to the assignment of checking on Baby.

Or, __should__ be listening, but instead was making hand puppet movements to everything being said.

"Again?"

"YES!"

"Don't encourage her," Ballora announces. Eggs smirks as he turns to the other window, bringing his flashlight out so he can actually see her figure still dancing on the stage.

"You mean to say you don't __like__ the noise?" Eggs teases, hand reaching out 'threateningly' to make FuntimeFoxy's dreams come true.

The animatronic lets out a sighing noise as she shakes her head fondly. Grinning at the 'okay', he then presses the nose to the weird clown head sitting on the desk, eliciting a weird laughing noise into the silent air.

"Thanks Eggs!" FuntimeFoxy grins.

"Anytime." The man offers a smile to Ballora before crawling through the vent to Baby's gallery.

Fingers crossed to not have to deal with anything weird tonight, his tiny form appears inside the small module 'over looking' Circus Baby's auditorium. Really it could just be standing over a giant ass cliff with the chance of breaking even more and sending him to his doom, but okay! Whatever you say Handy!

Mostly he doesn't really mind crawling in and helping with Baby's weird sense of humor. Her bidybabs coming over and attempting to get under the desk where he hides always makes his job a lot more exciting, but tonight he just really wanted to watch his favorite TV show and sleep until ten o'clock pm.

Sixteen hours of sleep. One of the greatest choices ever made by Eggs Benedict.

"Heya Baby! How are you today!" the mechanic greets. She doesn't answer though and the man flickers on the light, cursing when it still doesn't illuminate Baby's stage so he can actually see if she's there or not.

Or, if said area was a cliff...

"Great job Circus Baby! We knew we could count on you," HandUnit announces. The blonde man let's out a breath at not having to fend off any of the little bidybads who love to torture him on certain nights, but he wished Baby would talk to him more.

Out of all of the animatronics, Baby was more like HandUnit. She would speak if she wanted to, but if Eggs said anything or would greet her, she would never return the words. It got irritating to say the least especially when he didn't know why she didn't like him.

Or maybe that's how she always was. He'd __much__ rather if she wasn't such a little bastard about it, though.

"Please leave using the vent behind you, and we will see you tomorrow."

"Alright then. See you tomorrow Baby!" With that he ducks down to shimmy back to the center module, jumping to a stand with a bright smile. "See you guys tomorrow! Don't get into trouble without me!"

"See you again, Mr. Benedict," Ballora smiles. Eggs returns it in full and ducks down to crawl back into the vents leading into the elevator.

Problem was, the goddamn vent was closed.

"Uh, Handy? What's up with the, you know? Vent to go home?"

"There seems to be a power malfunction that is affecting our ability to allow you to leave. Please stand by while I reboot the systems."

"WHAT!"

"What's wrong Eggs?" FuntimeFoxy questions, the sound of her approaching the glass alerting the human she was watching with curiosity.

"Oh! I, uh, just left something back in Ballora's auditorium. I'll need to grab it," Eggs responds, swallowing thickly when he realizes he has to go into her room. And after that, straight into Freddy's.

Now don't get him wrong, he loves the animatronics. Half his life building machines he's learned to treat them kindly and respect them, especially with how advanced the one's owned by William Afton himself.

He might not think they're alive, necessarily, but he held them in a place in his heart and shocked himself whenever he has to administer a shock to them. The thing is, he only has that kind of 'love' and 'compassion' when they're behind glass. As soon as that's gone though, all the respect he's earned is out the window, him only being a new target ripe for the killing.

Fuck whatever everyone else said of 'being completely safe'. FuntimeFreddy personally told him Eggs wouldn't see the light of day in the coming week.

"Can you leave something in here too!" the fox questions, tail wagging happily.

...he's going to pretend it's because she __doesn't__ want to kill him. As much as a lie that seemed.

But he couldn't break her whatever-is-a-heart-to-them. "Maybe tomorrow, Foxster."

"Okay!" With that she leaves, but it doesn't make Eggs feel any better.

FuntimeFoxy was harder than Ballora to stay away from, her movements of attacking easily triggered if he shines the light too much or too less at the wrong time. Compared to the ballerina animatronic only activated by sound, the fox animatronic was a little bitch.

"Thank you for your patience, it seems the power system-"

"FUCK YOU!" For once the HandUnit falls silent, leaving without a shock as Eggs shuffles toward Ballora's gallery vent.

"Fuck me!"

Without another word, and of __course__ without a reassurance the ballerina animatronic will __not__ hurt him in any way, the mechanic disappeared into the vent, crawling into the darkness with nothing more than a flashlight and a bitching little HandUnit.

"Fuck, me."


	2. Scott Cawthon

**NOT SUITABLE FOR ALL AGES**

 ** **WARNINGS****  
 _ _Frequent cursing  
Mentions of death  
Mentions of murder  
Implied death scene__

 ** **DISCLAIMER****  
 _ _This is based upon the video game franchise__ Five Nights At Freddy's _ _, all rights for the characters and the world they interact inside belong solely to Scott Cawthon. We own nothing but the writing.  
Please give credit to those who deserve it. Thank you.__

* * *

"Hello, hello?"

The man hesitates at that, finger removing itself from the recording button as he takes a deep breath.

"Foxy!" he can't help but scream, jerking away from the left hand door currently being banged on.

 _ _One, two, three.__

The night guard quickly checks the light for Bonnie once more, lifting the door once the hall was clear before checking on Freddy's position.

 _ _Draining power. Can't let that happen again.__

Scott Cawthon moves the matted sandy hair away from his eyes, unable to help the spark of fear washing through him at the realization he was sweating buckets. Because out of the five years he's worked for Freddy Fazbear's, the animatronics have never gone this far to fix a 'broken rule'.

He always trusted management. He always believed that there was something different about the animatronics. He always hoped that what people said was only said for the best intentions.

Never to get away with murder.

 _ _Foxy's leaving. Bonnie's down the hall. Freddy's near the bathrooms and so is Chica.__

"I can do this. I can do this," he murmurs, turning back to the phone waiting for him to continue his recording.

And with it being only two o'clock in the morning with 10% battery left, he better make it quick.

"Hey! Wow, day four, I knew you could do it."

Flip up the cameras one more time before forcing a smile on his face.

"Uh, hey, listen," Scott continues. He has to stop once again to flinch at his hesitant voice.

The man used to be like that. Hesitant, stuttering, unconfident in every single thing he did. He was a push over, someone who only wanted to help and support those who needed it.

Now, though, he is a protector. Someone who will help from more than just from the sidelines. He didn't stutter, he never hesitated, and he stop taking all the bullshit handed to him like he did under a year ago.

That was all thanks to his best friend. And his inevitable death coming sooner than he could imagine, though, was __also__ thanks to his best friend.

...if only he knew where that madman was.

"I might not be around to send you a message tomorrow."

Scott jumps a solid foot in the air at the sudden banging sound of Foxy's return, breathing speeding up as the percentage of his battery, the percentage of his life, drops.

 _ _Killed by my favorite animatronic too. At least Afton won't be disappointed in this one.__

"I-It's been a bad night for me here," he continues, allowing the fear of what was to come over power his pride. His stutters and hesitation weren't forced.

He was going to die. There was nothing more to it. But that didn't mean he wasn't scared.

"Um, I-I'm kinda glad I recorded my messages for you-" A sob almost escapes him even as his voice stays as calm as ever, forcing a clearing of his throat. "-uh, when I did."

That's when Scott realized something. Something so monumental it seemed like an insult he never thought of it his entire week until now.

"Uh, hey, do me a favor."

Foxy banging on the door once more.

 _ _And I'm not asking this because he told me to.__

"Maybe, sometime, uh."

One more sound of the animatronic clearly wanting inside.

 _ _I'm asking because I really do need this favor.__

"You could check inside those suits in the back room?"

Wanting inside to brutally murder the loyal employee.

 _ _I don't want to be forgotten.__

"I'm gonna try to hold out until someone checks."

...maybe even wanting to tell him everything will be okay.

 _ _Because after everything I've done for those around me, those I care about.__

"Maybe it won't be so bad."

The battery percentage drops yet again.

 _ _They're only watching me die without shedding a single tear.__

"Uh, I-I-I-I always wondered what was in all those empty heads back there."

 _ _Please. Tell my family I love them. And tell Vincent I'm sorry.__

Scott's head snaps up at hearing Freddy Fazbear's chime, breathing speeding up at realizing the star animatronic was drawing closer and closer to the office.

A moment passes and he stops recording once more, eyes glancing around the room in pure terror, the walls slowly closing in on him as the animatronics he once worshipped begin to descend upon him.

He had no idea what would happen when he gets caught. Recording a lecture of what the suit did was one thing, but trying to figure out what the demonic robot of a children's mascot that caught you did was a completely different story.

The night guard didn't know where the others were. Didn't know if they were already breathing down his neck.

He really did try to survive. Afton had only asked for a __staged__ 'death tape' to give to the many night guards to come on night four, considering no one __should__ make it past that point with the few reports given.

It looks like Scott was about to do one better, though, and give the poor idiots coming into Freddy Fazbear's his __real__ death.

Recorded, for the world to hear.

 _ _I'm so sorry.__

"You know," the man begins, finger pressing the button once more.

He wanted to tell them everything. He wanted to stop this. To make sure no one else had to die. To __save them__. To tell them the story of __why__ the animatronics are trying to kill them.

Because-

Scott nearly screams when he hears a sudden moan directly behind him, spinning around to see the one animatronic he thought he'd never see again.

 _ _Golden Freddy.__

"Oh no."

" ** _ _RAHAHAHAHAHAHA__**!"

 ** **BONUS****  
 _ _Original draft for Scott's 'backstory'.__

 _ _Don't you know who you are?__

"Shut up. Just shut up."

 _ _Who you__ really _ _are?__

"I said shut up."

 _ _I sure do.__

"No you don't!"

 _ _After all, I__ am _ _you.__

"No, please."

 _ _And you'll end up just, like-__

"NO!"

Scott bolts upright in bed, breath heavy as sweat coats his entire body, thoroughly soaking his clothes and sheets. And as the fan whirls as fast as it possibly can, only moments ago unable to make so much as a breeze wafting over his face, now made his bedroom a seeming freezer capable of giving him frostbite.

"It's okay. I'm okay. Just a nightmare," the man breathes, gaze dropping to the blanket that had been tossed off the bed yet again.

Only now there was no one to pick it up and lay it across his quivering form.

With a sigh the somewhat long, sandy hair is brushed back as he slips out of bed. One look at the forgotten blanket and he simply walks into his kitchen. A single click and the aroma of coffee fills the air, already energizing the tired sole occupant of the house rubbing his face in frustration.

It wasn't always like this.

Scott never imagined a life like this, either. Alone every time he woke up and went to bed. Scared of his own shadow even with his timid personality all but vanished. Forced to stay up for hours to process paperwork after his job __supposed__ to kill him only left him with a few scars.

Just a year ago he had it all. A loving wife he sacrificed everything for. Adoring boys of his own flesh and blood. A good job that promised better opportunities each day. A best friend who promised nothing could ever come between them.

The lies that were told. The lies he believed.

 _ _Come on, Scott.__

"Go away."

 _ _You can't run away forever.__

"I will always be the coward you think I am."

The voice suddenly stops at that, allowing Scott to slump into a chair before the wooden table, eyes tracing over the nicks made over the years.

Britany dropping her favorite mug. Judius dropping his clay masterpiece made in class. Samson dropping his handmade sword point first.

...he chased all of it away.

 _ _Scott.__

"I said shut UP!"

The man growls when a sudden beep fills the air, standing once more to snag a lone cup from the cabinet and pour himself the caffeine needed to stay awake. Though he could just have another nightmare and he'd be perfectly fine.

The shake of his head and the man walks back to his bedroom, quickly getting dressed and finding the time to smirk and the neatly made bed waiting patiently for its owner to return to.

Blanket and all back where they belong.

A few minutes later, keys in hand and glass in the other, Scott leaves the home he both created and grew his family in.

But, as William Afton had stated, who needs family when you're alive and making money?

...if only he believed that like he used to believe the animatronics really didn't know they were murdering human beings every time they put an 'endoskeleton' back into its proper suit. But, either way, the company needed some sort of 'death tape'.

And he had __just__ the thing.


	3. Vincent Wright

**NOT SUITABLE FOR ALL AGES**

 ** **WARNINGS****  
 _ _Mild gore  
Murder  
Death scene  
Mentions of violence__

 ** **DISCLAIMER****  
 _ _This is based upon the video game franchise__ Five Nights At Freddy's _ _, all rights for the characters and the world they interact inside belong solely to Scott Cawthon. We own nothing but the writing.  
Please give credit to those who deserve it. Thank you.__

* * *

"...cent."

The knife held in his hand. The five standing before him. Their fearful yet hopeful tears.

"Vin..."

The blade slicing across their throats. Plunging into their chest. Carving out the heart, the spine.

"Vincent."

Blood flung across the room. Scaling up the walls and onto the ceiling. The entire area painted as if a mural was needed.

A dark, disturbing mural that was painted with the blade of a common kitchen knife, and the life-giving blood from innocent children who pleaded for mercy.

"Vincent!"

The young man finally allows reality to snap back into place, finally looking over himself, over the damage he had done.

Panting, quivering where he stands with a single knife gripped with both hands. A body lying directly in front of him, the face etched in terror from the pain they experienced. Another body leaning against the wall, nearly severed in half. Two are then seen slumped against each other, as if supporting their sibling even through death. And the last one, sprawled across the floor directly in front of the door...

…staring up at the man in a maroon suit soaking the scene in.

"Did you do all of this?"

The sound of metal clattering to the floor fills the room as Vincent Wright slowly turns to the tall figure casually stepping over the corpse before him.

He didn't know what to feel. Fear for being caught. Fear for what he did. Joy he was caught. Joy he actually finished something for once in his life. Sorrow for allowing himself to do this. Sorrow for allowing himself to be found.

Disappointment in the fact the one person out of the many who adopted him, who understood his pain, was the one to look upon the horror he committed.

"Mr. Afton…I'm so sorry."

Sorry for snapping. Sorry for thinking __this__ was how he could help them. Sorry for allowing his pain to get the best of him. Sorry for not trying to stop himself. Sorry for letting himself down. Sorry for letting his parents who abandoned him down. Sorry for letting his three brothers who were never sent away down. Sorry for letting Scott down.

...sorry for not doing this sooner.

Those piercing blue eyes snap up to the young man standing before him. Those once blood thirsty eyes filled with terror over the crime he did with seemingly no reason.

Those once blood thirsty eyes filled with terror over the crime he did with seemingly no reason, along with the look of longing to do it again. Murder five children. Cause another to lose their frontal lobe.

"I'm proud of you, Vincent."

The guard straightens up ever so slightly at that, watching with wonder and awe as a real smile appears on the man's face standing before him.

He was proud. For once in his life, he wasn't a failure. Wasn't someone to be rid of as soon as he was old enough to be casted aside. As if his biological parents knew __this__ is what he would become.

A murderer. One who is itching to continue what he's started. There was so much pain he had to rid the world of.

William Afton then walks forward, looking over the blood-stained uniform with pure joy as he takes the hunched and shaking shoulders into his grasp.

"Come with me. I have something to help with the blood," he grins, bringing the frozen man toward the door without any resistance. "I just hope you don't mind to color purple."

"No…will I be allowed to kill again, sir?"

Vincent perks up at the genuine laugh emitted, heart fluttering as his once adoptive father quickly nods his head, hand outstretched to close the door behind them.

Not that anyone would immediately discover who exactly was killed in the back room of Freddy Fazbear's. There was blood, a murder weapon, bodies. It would be hard for an untrained eye, however, to recognize the little kids due to the Freddy, Bonnie, Chica, and Foxy suits they were stuffed into.

William smile once more down at the expression growing more and more excited by the minute, as if pleading for a new victim.

 _ _Start counting your days, Henry. He's exactly what I've been looking for.__

"I'd be disappointed if you didn't, Vincent. I'd be disappointed if you didn't."

* * *

 ** **BONUS****  
 _ _Original draft for Vincent's 'backstory'.__

"Alyssa!"

 _ _...why did you give me away?__

"Vincent!"

 _ _Why was I the only one not good enough?__

"Hey, kiddo! I was just...what's wrong?"

 _ _What made you turn away?__

"…my parents again."

 _ _Think I replaced your real son?__

"Come on. There's someone special I want you to meet."

 _ _...because you kept them.__

"Flynn! Buddy! How are you!"

 _ _Your three strapping young boys.__

"Hey, Vincent."

 _ _All stronger. Faster. Better.__

"What's wrong?"

 _ _...perfect.__

"Stupid parents."

 _ _Why was I shipped away?__

"Hey, come with me. There's someone special I want you to meet."

 _ _To never be raised by my real parents?__

"Kayden!"

 _ _...was it because I would disappoint you?__

"Sorry, Vincent. I'm just not up for today."

 _ _Somehow, you knew I would make you rue the day you gave me life?__

"Parents again?"

 _ _And so to save you grief, you sent me away?__

"Parents again."

 _ _In the belief I'd never come back?__

"Come on back with me. There's someone special I want you to meet."

 _ _To keep me and my memory away forever?__

"Casey, Casey! And her little brother Cody!"

 _ _Because there was no other away.__

"You know I'm older, Vincent."

 _ _...well. I hope you don't regret your decision.__

"...what's wrong."

 _ _Because you made me this way.__

"It's our, parents."

 _ _Someone trying to right all of your wrongs.__

"Why don't you two come with me. There's someone special I want you to meet."

 _ _But to you, I am nothing more than a killer, aren't I.__

Vincent Wright stands alone once more inside the tiny back room of Freddy Fazbear's, a knife gripped tightly and blood coating every inch of him.

"...Vincent?"

The young man whirls around at the voice, weapon clattering to the ground as the sound rings ominously.

Five children, murdered only five minutes ago, and he couldn't find the courage to take just one more victim. Even if it meant getting killed himself.

"Mr. Afton!"

The company owner of Freddy Fazbear only watches with an unreadable expression, eyes scanning over his night guard.

"Did you do this?"

Vincent stumbles away, blood stained hands held close as if to protect himself. He shakes violently, gaze darting across the red splattered across the room. As if he was having too much fun to realize how much of a mess he was making.

"I-I didn't mean to!"

A step.

"I-I just, I-I wanted to help them!"

Another step.

"Please, Mr. Afton, I-I never meant to-!"

Vincent suddenly goes still as a single hand is placed on top of his head. A moment goes by of only silence before he finally looks into the kind gaze.

"Vincent. I'm proud of you."

The owner smiles as tears of both sorrow and joy begin to fall onto the floor. And as the young man begins to sway from exhaustion, his arms were offered as support, uncaring about the blood considering the choice of maroon for his suit. No one would ever spot the difference.

"Come on. I think I can help with the blood."

"Yes, sir."

"I just hope you like the color purple."

"...thank you."

"You're welcome."

 _ _...you are the only person who gave me a real home. Wanted me for me.__

And for that, I swear to never leave your side.

Especially if it means killing a few more kids standing in your way...


	4. Jeremy Fitzgerald

**NOT SUITABLE FOR ALL AGES**

 ** **WARNINGS****  
 _ _Frequent cursing  
Mentions of death  
Mentions of murder__

 ** **DISCLAIMER****  
 _ _This is based upon the video game franchise__ Five Nights At Freddy's _ _, all rights for the characters and the world they interact inside belong solely to Scott Cawthon. We own nothing but the writing.  
Please give credit to those who deserve it. Thank you.__

* * *

...did he hear that correctly?

ToyBonnie slinks off to the other vent, slipping inside and waiting for the newest night guard to slip off the Freddy head. A moment to allow him to rewind the music box, flick the light on and on, blah blah __blah__.

And back out!

...holy shit.

"CC! CC COME HERE!"

"BON! YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO-!"

" _ _HE SQUEAKS__!"

Jeremy stares through the eye holes to the animatronic head that was hollowed out just for him. He couldn't move a single inch, not even noticing the music box that the person on the phone had been so adamant on keeping it wound up was slowly but surely sealing his fate.

But, how could he be focused on that when the animatronic just __spoke__. Not only that, but it was __answered__.

Oh fiddlesticks. Oh fiddlesticks. OH FIDDLESTICKS!

What was he supposed to do! The blue bunny wasn't leaving, and the yellow chicken was bounding down the hallway and they SPOKE! WHAT THE HAY WAS GOING ON!

ToyBonnie smirks when his 'partner in crime' finally comes into the office, a sassy hand on her hip as she holds Bugsy on his plate in her other.

"I swear, Bon, if you make me get in trouble __one more time__!"

"CC! The little, the little...ah fuck."

ToyChica glares fiercely at the bunny animatronic, moving to tell him curse words would get ToyFreddy washing his mouth out yet again. She didn't care if it messed with his mechanics all over again, they were in a children's place, damn it! If he didn't learn last time then maybe he'll learn this time!

That's when she noticed there was something missing. Something __extremely__ important.

"You LOST HIM!"

"I didn't fucking loose him!" Bon cries, glaring right back before gesturing toward the empty desk void of the night guard they were supposed to stuff __tonight__. "He just disappeared!"

"That's loosing him!"

"No it's not! He's a slimy son of a bitch is what he is!"

"Cap'n's here."

Mangle can't help but laugh softly as the yelling immediately stops, ToyChica and ToyBonnie snapping to attention as ToyFreddy stalks down the hallway, undeterred by the rules in place to help the spineless bastard of a night guard that __deserved__ death.

It didn't matter. The two fucked up their night of yet another revenge, and they were going to have hell to pay.

"What do you two think you're doing!" the bear yells, microphone clenched so tightly an imprint of his mechanical fingers are left on the usually pristine prop.

Now he had something else to yell about!

"Stage! __Now__!"

"But, Fredrick-!"

"Don't 'Fredrick' me, Bon. You're getting back to the stage and waiting patiently until six a.m. Because of you, the stupid night guard gets a freebie!" ToyFreddy berates, gesturing angrily around the office. His blue gaze passes over CC once, glaring at the disappointed gaze before turning to Mangle. "At least __someone__ listens to me. The rest of you are idiots. __Surrounded__ by idiots."

"Nice Disney reference, Fatbear."

"Stage."

ToyBonnie crosses his arms stubbornly before finally traveling toward where the stage sits, dreading the long trip just to stand in one place all night.

This sucks! He just wanted to share something and CC just had to fuck it all up! Now he's going to be pissed off all day and-

"Hey, Fredrick! Where'd your guard go!"

The bear almost chucks his microphone at the smug look of his fourth in command, wanting nothing more than to have Mangle deactivate the little asshole for-

"Wait." He glances over the void desk, snapping his fingers to signal the broken animatronic to search the building and find their next victim. ToyFoxy leaves without a second thought, eagerly leaving to find their guard and teach him a lesson about leaving the office.

"He was here when you came in?" Fredrick questions, still watching the desk as if it'd come to life and swallow him whole. CC only nods, not wanting to chance making their bossy leader upset.

Bon stays where he is in the hall, ears perked as they train on the smallest noise. He can't help but smirk when he hears the distinct breathing of a human still inside the office. And, if he may add, is quite proud of the fact of how quick and shallow it was.

They scared the shit out of him!

ToyFreddy growls as his ears press down before snapping his fingers once more, summoning Mangle back when it becomes clear the guard __didn't__ break the rules. And that means they can't be killed tonight. Not when CC and Bon broke the rules instead.

That's when he notices the music box is unwinding, growling lowly when he remembers what exactly that met. And no way did he want __him__ being unleashed tonight. Took forever to get the stubborn bastard back where he belongs before six.

"Wind the box."

CC can't help but watch in awe as an arm suddenly appears, clicking the button and making the distinct sound of the music receiving more time to play. Once the task was complete the arm is yanked back out of sight with, with...

"He really does squeak!"

Jeremy can only curl into his confused and traumatized little ball in response, shaking like a leaf out of pure fear.

This isn't possible. He's imagining things. Imagining the commanding voice to tell him to wind the music box. It was just his subconsciousness keeping him from getting killed. That __has__ to be it. Animatronics don't talk. __Children__ animatronics don't __curse__. They can have a malfunction with facial scanners, see him as an endoskeleton, and accidentally kill him by putting him into a suit, but there is __no way__ they could __possibly__ -

"FIDDLESTICKS!"

CC coos softly at the night guard tucked underneath the desk, giggling when he rubs at his fluffy brown curls after hitting his head in surprise before stiffening when he notices her.

"N-N-Not real. Not, it c-c-can't b-be real."

"He looks weird."

Those kind grey eyes widen at seeing BalloonBoy looking over him critically, the humanoid animatronic shrugging once his analysis was complete. He backs away to find someone else to bother, glancing over at ToyChica and ToyFreddy's scowl.

"What?"

"That's not very nice!"

"It's true!"

"Wind the music box."

Jeremy whimpers softly as he carefully reaches out to press the button once more, eyeing the animatronics standing over him as he completes the task. Neither of them even acknowledge the actions taking to appease the apparent leader of the group, allowing him to breathe out in relief and withdrawal back into his hiding space.

Or, that was the __plan__.

Bon grins at the scream given as he snags the human's hand just as it goes to disappear, yanking him out. He didn't care if he accidentally ripped the arm off. There must be a way they could fix him...

"You know, I like you better with the Freddy head," the bunny muses as he leans over the desk, the squirming little thing kicking pathetically. All movement stills when one more yelp emits, though he didn't know if it was fear or pain. It was cute, adorable, but weird as fuck. "You're too fucking squishing. BB's right about you looking weird."

Jeremy only manages to scream internally as he's forced to see that the animatronics, in fact, were talking. Moving. Not killing him, but having feelings. Wants. Desires.

An urge to stuff him into a Fazbear suit and kill him...

"I think he looks cute," CC pouts, gently nudging their admittedly most annoying animatronic away. BalloonBoy only darts down the hallway, laughing as Mangle teasingly snaps at him before appraising the guard they've been attempting to kill for three nights.

"He does look pretty cute."

"T-T-Too cute not to k-k-k-k-kill?"

Jeremy begins to squirm once more as ToyBonnie pulls him closer, eyes tearing up when it feels as if his arm was going to rip out of its socket. He could straighten out and touch the ground to help with the pain. Or ask if he can let him go.

Or, and this was just a thought, but stop looking at him with such a sadistic smile!

"Oh no. We're killing you," the animatronic purrs, dropping their prize to the floor as Fredrick rolls his eyes.

"But with the rules broken, you are safe for tonight."

"We'll get you tomorrow, though!" ToyChica exclaims.

Kill him tomorrow. They'll kill him tomorrow. Unless he can fend them off. Stay alive. How was he going to make it out of this alive? They've ridiculed him, tried to rip his arm off, called him cute, yanked him away from his safe place.

This shouldn't be real. This is all just one giant nightmare. Please, it has to be. Darn it, he just wants to go to bed.

"Stage."

With a groan Bon finally obeys their leader, stomping down the hall without a second thought as CC bounces after him, though not before waving a goodbye to the guard. Mangle crawls across the ceiling to arrive at kid's cove, leaving Jeremy to look at the glare given by the bear before scrambling to wind the music box once more.

The young adult is then left with the flick of an ear, not even a smile as a thank you for listening to what was said. For doing what was asked. He was simply expected to obey every command.

Maybe it-

"Enjoy your night, Mr. Fitzgerald. The only one you will ever get that promises you will be alive come six a.m."

Jeremy whimpers as he curls up on his leather chair when he's left with such an ominous comment. So much for doing all that hard work. Might as well keep up with making sure the 'puppet' doesn't visit him.

Holy River of Styx they actually talk...

Fredrick taps his fingers to a familiar melody before pausing at hearing the one that soothed a certain someone. One glare at the giant present and a deep chuckle leaves a shiver crawling up the animatronics endoskeleton. Peeved the last member of the toys is left completely alone to listen intently as the box continues to play its eerie toon.

 _ _Jeremy Fitzgerald. Looks like you're more than we originally thought.__

Too bad you took up the night shift, though. You doomed yourself the second you 'cute' little self walked through that door.


	5. David Harrison

**NOT SUITABLE FOR ALL AGES**

 ** **WARNINGS****  
 _ _Frequent cursing  
Mentions of death  
Mentions of murder__

 ** **DISCLAIMER****  
 _ _This is based upon the video game franchise__ Five Nights At Freddy's _ _, all rights for the characters and the world they interact inside belong solely to Scott Cawthon. We own nothing but the writing.  
Please give credit to those who deserve it. Thank you.__

* * *

The desk before him never seemed more perfect for banging his head against until now.

...actually, that was a lie. Because, for some inexplicable reason, his newest assignment made by his employer has him working with not just the standard idiots of their society, but __all of them__.

He can barely get __anything__ done. Who knew the dumbasses he's had the absolute __pleasure__ of __never meeting__ in a __million years__ all manage to end up in the __children's industry__. Not only that, but the __restaurant industry__ as well.

And, whoop-dee-fucking-doo, this is the industry his greatest client needs him knee deep inside of. Especially considering the impossibleness of what said client is asking for.

"I SAID SHUT UP!"

"Mr. Harrison!"

The business man glares daggers toward the voice, not at all surprised by the sight of Happy The Frog looking at him with wide eyes.

Now __that__ was something interesting, possibly even an almost enjoyable part of his time working under William Afton in the mission to bring the name of Freddy Fazbear's out of the ashes.

Which, if he really thought about it, made his client both a madman and a complete idiot.

Five children were murdered. One child lost their entire frontal lobe. Disappearances of children once occurred left and right. Unsanitary conditions. Animatronics failing. Giving up and excepting his fate toward the richest man alive was seeming more and more appealing compared to gaining a five star rating, A+ in safety, and the complete erase of everything that has ever happened in any other restaurant.

And, well, __just__ to add to the __insanity__ , each vendor that was approved tended to have a...liability risk.

So much for A+ in safety.

"Mr. Harrison! Please don't yell!" Happy exclaims, finally earning the restaurant owner's attention once more. Forcing him to remember why the hell he zoned out on such a tangent in the first place.

"Happy, I don't care how loud I'm being! Make everyone stop being complete morons and __then__ we'll talk!"

"We did give you a few options for employees, Mr. Harrison!"

Those eyes that should __not__ be capable of lighting up as if excited glance over his desk. And before he can yell at the advanced technology touching __his__ things, a hand or pad or whatever the fuck it has only pulls out an unfamiliar file from under the different papers.

"What the fuck is this?"

"Well," the frog begins, fucking __bouncing in place__ like a little kid would. A __human kid__. Seriously this was messed up. How did it know to do all of these? And, perform a task of collecting 'unidiotic employees'. He was pretty sure they were never given that specific of programming.

"Mr. Hippo heard you firing someone and noticed you're getting a little low on staff, so Orville went through and scanned the database to see if anyone inside Freddy Fazbear's working under a different restaurant had any qualities you'd like! Of course I went through and made sure they looked nice enough to work here."

David nods slowly as he thumbs through the different resumes that had been placed inside the plain folder, photos placed with them as well, something he has to __beg__ to usually get. Finally someone who actually listened.

He almost forgot this was just an animatronic talking to him.

"You might be given five minutes of me not screaming my goddamn head off."

Again, that smile should __not__ be possible. What kind of bastard designs them to express so many emotions? Nice job with attracting children but __fuck__ is that kind of shit creepy.

"Let us know if we can do anything else!" Happy cheers before bouncing out of the office once more, laughing as a few children immediately pull on her to play with them.

David shakes his head and rolls his eyes before grabbing a few of the profiles. And considering they already worked under William Afton and simply inside a different restaurant, he can more than easily twist someone's ankle to get exactly what he wants. Especially when he was shameful to admit these were, in fact, incredibly qualified and probably less idiotic than those he's hired before.

Greg Haust. Strong, determined, a total suck up, but he seems like the day guard he could use.

Dakota Brackner. Excellent waitress, not so good with kids, but a dream toward boys in the older age categories.

Alexis Mannor. Weird last name, motivated, young, great with memorizing and cooking.

Fritz Smith. Short, a literally puppy, but the greatest employee one could have, even a few coding skills.

Tanner Reeds. A little wimpy, a giant pushover, also a bit OCD, amazing in the kitchen.

Mike Sch-

David's blood freezes as his mind latches onto the strange and __familiar__ last name. One he's practically had shoved down his throat in all the research he's had to do to open this god forsaken place. And the first name...it can't be possible.

The business man tears open his drawer holding everything he could possibly have that actually seemed to have __appeared__ on his desk after taking William's offer for this job. The files he's been told __never__ to share or let anyone know he does, in fact, have more information regarding Freddy Fazbear's than even those 'second in command' of helping run the business as a whole.

One turn of the page and a young, happy, and in __one piece__ Mike Schmidt smiles up at him. Further down and he's gifted with that once joyful little ray of sunshine having his entire head wrapped in gauze.

1987\. Said to have been bit by his favorite animatronic.

Twenty years later and watching over the same machine that ruined his entire life.

...and as a night guard.

And unlike the literal morons of this world, he knew the job was literally a death sentence. The animatronics needed to 'roam free' at night. And that allowed anyone smart enough to use this excuse and stop anyone from taking a paycheck home with them at the end of the week. Why not use robots capable of ending people's lives to keep from giving money away when they don't even deserve the ground they walk on? Call him a psychopath, but he called it business.

David can't help but smirk at the irony, however. This fucked up little night guard signing up to get murdered. Good riddance considering he went back to the very thing that almost __killed him__. Sure his reviews are pretty good when it comes to having stopped a burglary, but seriously, they can do without him. And he won't have to even wait until the end of the week considering-

" _ _NO__! HOW HAS HE SURVIVED FOR __TWO MONTHS__! AND WHY IS WILLIAM __ALLOWING IT__!"

* * *

 ** **BONUS****  
 _ _Original draft for David's 'backstory'.__

 _ _Stupid. Incompetent. Stupid. Ugly. Incompetent. Annoying. Aggravating. Just kill me now. Stupid.__

...what the hell even are you?

David Harrison sighs as he tosses away the countless upon countless of resumes all filled with people 'hiring ready'.

What a fucking joke. Each and every person he's __ever__ hired does nothing but make him lose money. Money he works his __ass off__ to earn, especially when the clients he deals unworthy of his precious time.

You know, maybe one some might __actually__ give him something that doesn't require dealing with people who didn't understand that any time in the world was __David's__ time.

He always works so hard. It was about time that hard work payed off. About damn-

The business man sighs once again before straightening his tie as he stands up, one hand sweeping the annoying papers.

"Mr. Harrison!"

"Hire Golchick, Allen, and Brinck. They are the __least__ likely to disappoint you," David states, shoving the files into the man currently staring up at him like some kind of god finally answering all his prayers.

At least __they__ understood his worth.

"I have to leave now. Everything is well taken care of."

The salon owner hesitates before racing after the tall man walking away, resumes quickly flipped through until every last one other than the three mentioned are thrown away without a second thought. And just as David begins to leave the building, the shorter man extends a hand.

Not to shake. The person standing before him was to not be disrespected in such a way. It was to merely state his presence, though never growing near to even __dream__ of touching even the expensive suit being worn.

"Mr. Harrison," the owner begins once again, eyes filled with awe as the bored gaze focuses on him.

"I appreciate everything you have done. For my business, my family. There is nothing I can say to show how much you even standing before means to me. To us. We truly owe out lives to you, Mr. Harrison. If there is __anything__ we can do at __any__ point of time-"

"Allow me to leave," the man interrupts, rolling his eyes as he turns toward the exit once more. "And don't ever call me again."

A moment passes, as if David was expecting something.

But there was only silence and a giant smile never leaving the awe inspired expression. Because no matter what was said, no matter what was done, this man before them, this god even, could never do any wrong.

He said their business, even with the way firing the staff known by the owner since childhood. He still provided success when it truly was impossible.

The business man then leaves behind the so called 'family business' and drives off without a second thought.

...what a joke.

The idiots won't fail even if they fucked up all of his hard work. Not that they would with every single thing he does a fucking __blessing__ that should be __worshipped__ , but even so the business was saved. A dumbass business that shouldn't be active, but alive and thriving it is guaranteed to be.

Idiots. Disgraces to humanity. Only put on this earth to worship the ground he walks upon. Nothing could change that.

No man alive who tried to talk back to him. No woman alive who tried to reason with him. No child alive who tried to make him sympathize. No one alive to make him feel any sort of 'love' or even tolerance to anyone else.

That is, until this phone call.

"David Harrison."

"David. I have an assignment for you."

"And what do I owe the pleasure to having a conversation with Mr. Afton himself?"


	6. James Stiller

**NOT SUITABLE FOR ALL AGES**

 ** **WARNINGS****  
 _ _Mentions of death  
Mentions of murder__

 ** **DISCLAIMER****  
 _ _This is based upon the video game franchise__ Five Nights At Freddy's _ _, all rights for the characters and the world they interact inside belong solely to Scott Cawthon. We own nothing but the writing.  
Please give credit to those who deserve it. Thank you.__

* * *

"Why do you never scream?"

"Is there a reason to?"

James Stiller looks up to find the one animatronic he was in charge of leaning against the right side of the window, half out of sight yet posing a strong silhouette.

Usually he'd be interested in just how the rotting bunny could even __function__. The robot hunted him down for hours on end, sending __hallucinations__ of all things at its next victim. Not only that, but the busted, clearly barely functioning animatronic was acting like the coolest guy in high school, acting like a human would.

And it __spoke__.

But that's why the ever curious man forced himself to stay put inside his chair and simply talk. Because while that voice was the one of impossibility, it was also the voice of pain.

"Every one else screams. Don't really need a reason to."

The animatronic shrugs before leaning away from where the man sat.

James can't help but lean forward, only to scowl as yet another nightmarish form of Chica the Chicken from Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria lunges toward him.

But as was stated, there was no scream. Simply the speeding of his heart before it dies away as quickly as it started.

"Dude. Having a Heart-To-Heart, here."

"A what-to-what?"

James shrugs before turning back to his 'maintenance' tablet, quickly making sure everything was rebooted. Not because the one animatronic wanting to murder him and leave his body on the ground as some sort of prop for the horror attraction. No, he was fearful of the fire hazard. Especially in a place like this a single spark could turn into a roaring flame capable of latching onto anything that held a trace of capability to house it along with a source of oxygen to-

"You know. Heart-To-Heart," the night guard begins, looking back up to see the animatronic hasn't moved a single muscle. "You talk about feelings, I listen. Then I talk about feelings and you-"

"Rip your spine out from your throat before grinding it into dust along with your windpipe as well before you dye of blood loss?"

"Actually, the loss of my spine would certainly kill me. Not only are my nerves needed for basic functions of life connected to it, but my brain would be overridden by so much pain being received upon the information given it'd simply clock out maybe a few seconds in. Not to mention your paw is bigger than my throat so that wouldn't end well."

James hesitates as he looks at the ceiling, attempting to make sure he wasn't forgetting anything. Once it was settled he didn't leave out any piece of information, his gaze lands back on his 'coworker'.

Only to raise an eyebrow to see that silver gaze looking right back at him.

"Did you just disprove my method of killing you?" the animatronic questions, something that could only be identified as a smirk slowly etching itself onto his face.

James winks as he taps the 'restart system', waving a hand to the air.

"Hey. You can't kill me if your gonna do it all wrong. Just disrespectful man."

There's no answer to that, those eyes simply watching the human.

They both knew James' life could end right there. The animatronic was faster, stronger. There was absolutely no way he'd be able to get out of this alive. There __shouldn't__ be a way to get out of this alive.

"You think I've earned your respect?"

"I hope I have," the man replies earnestly. "I don't expect that I have. I don't know that I have. But you have to admit, surviving a week and a half with you chasing after me is quite a feat."

The animatronic grunts at that, looking away before bobbing its head side to side.

"Maybe. Maybe."

James smiles knowingly before leaning forward excitedly, eyes alight with curiosity as the need for a Heart-To-Heart passes.

Now he can finally ask questions. And believe him when he's said it's been killing him. He needed to know.

"Why are you still active? Why are you down here? Do you want to be repaired? Do you actually enjoy being like this? Why are you faster than any animatronic I've studied? Who created you? Was is Henry or Afton? What about-?"

The animatronic stares at the constant stream of questions pouring out of the human before him.

If he didn't know any better, he'd think he broke the guy. But as much as he didn't want to admit it, he did understand his newest night guard. As weird, silent, and so annoyingly __calm__ as he was, 'Stiller' was more than he seemed.

"-can I get your name?"

James smiles as that seems to bring the bunny back into the real world, though just as eager for an answer.

"Springtrap."

"I like Corpse better."

There was a smile. An actual, true smile. One that hasn't seen the light in over twenty years.

"Looks like I have one?" Springtrap questions, ever so slowly moving away from the wall.

He sees the human tense up for a moment, still watching him to make sure the animatronic won't kill him suddenly. They might've had an interesting interaction, but nothing promised a free pass from getting slaughtered without a though.

"I did when I first saw you," James admits, sitting back when the bunny, when __Springtrap__ doesn't attempt to dash into the room.

"You have rotting fur that behaves a lot like human flesh. Your cords look an awful like human veins, especially stained the dark color of dried blood. Your endoskeleton teeth seem to be hiding real teeth, which means a skull could be assumed as well. Not to mention the way you hold yourself, as if carrying something."

The man then returns the smile back in full.

"But, I realized I was wrong. You don't have a body decaying inside you."

"Yet."

Springtrap allows a demonic laugh to emit as he turns back to the other hallway, missing the thoughtful expression given at the ominous statement. His footsteps fade away, however, showing his victim will be given a 'fair' shot at surviving.

"I didn't find your talk unpleasant."

"I didn't find it exciting, either."

James grins wickedly as the quiet thumps suddenly halting, a strange hiss echoing through the halls.

 _ _Gotcha.__

"I might be killing you sooner than I thought!"

"Better hurry, Corpse! Or else I'll win that bet!"

 _ _...I actually hope you do.__


	7. Caleb White

**NOT SUITABLE FOR ALL AGES**

 ** **WARNINGS****  
 _ _Mentions of death  
Mentions of murder  
Mentions of experiments on living people__

 ** **DISCLAIMER****  
 _ _This is based upon the video game franchise__ Five Nights At Freddy's _ _, all rights for the characters and the world they interact inside belong solely to Scott Cawthon. We own nothing but the writing.  
Please give credit to those who deserve it. Thank you.__

* * *

"The experiment is going even better than I could ever hope. He's quick, motivated. Surprised he hasn't slipped on his excessive amount of tears, though." A sound of uncontrollable laughter. "You find that funny?"

"He just seems useful in many ways, sir."

"That's true."

"And, I'm just imagining your incredible restraint to not-"

The figure clothed in darkness suddenly snaps his fingers, forcing the sound of impending death to suddenly disappear. The feeling of eyes watching their every move vanishes as well. As if never there.

"Enjoying my little gift, are you?"

"Of course! And, I mean, said gift only happened to make sure __you__ were safe."

Laughter fills the small space, genuine instead of the cruel sound seeming to always be emitted every time something is found 'joyful'. And instead of a glare toward the obvious enjoyment of the pain caused, the abuse over the little 'gift' being used, all that's returned is a beaming smile.

A beaming smile slowly turning insane by the second.

"Always interesting allowing you to speak."

"I'll make sure to keep it up, then. Wouldn't want to disappoint you, sir."

A nod and the two finally turn back to the screens illuminating the pitch black space.

They should be horrified by what they see. Disgusted something like this was allowed to occur. Panicked and frantic in a way to try and stop it.

The little boy never deserved a fate like this. Never deserved to be pushed to the limits. To fend for his life at only seven years old. Shown what death is and watch it creeping closer. Used as entertainment. Chased by the real monsters under the bed. Fending them off with only a flashlight.

Crawling. Flashing. Opening. Closing. Waiting. Scrawling. Turning. Flashing. Turning. Pleading.

As if his life was only a game. And with a game, a good old fashioned villain always making him cry buckets and buckets of tears. A good old fashioned that was his older brother, with his younger sister about to join in on the fun.

"Well. Two months and barely surviving. And you've already modified their intelligence? Made them more hostile. Added the newest __player__."

"They were more than excited to be upgraded, sir."

Another eye roll. Yet another oddly structured sentence. As if the animatronics were alive. Real. With a mind of their own.

But it didn't matter. As long as that insanity allowed the murdering spree to continue undeterred, he wasn't complaining.

"We're leaving him to it then. Dead within a week. Well then! Let's get out of this stupid office. Always hated it down here."

The screens are turned off, leaving the currently sobbing and begging little boy to fend off his nightmares come to life on his own. Without anyone to help him. To believe him. To care.

They won't even care when he's killed, just the memory of sobbing silently while pleading for everyone to leave him alone.

Leave him alone, with his plush Fredbear to hug.

 _ _Please. Someone. Help me.__


	8. Henry Ross

Now, we seemed to have 'held back' with the introduction of our night guards. You must understand, they aren't entirely... _human_. Or, at least their companions aren't. They may be from another part of the world, possibly even another dimension perhaps, but they never mean any harm.

... _mean_ any harm. There will always be the few slip ups, however. Accidents. The mistaken claim of someone's intentions. Bits of odds and ends here and there. You might want to play it safe and turn back around.

Or, since you've made it this far, we wouldn't want to disappoint our guests and _force_ them to leave, now would we? Especially when the show is just about to begin...

* * *

 **NOT SUITABLE FOR ALL AGES**

 ** **WARNINGS****  
 _ _Frequent cursing  
Mentions of death  
Want to harm someone__

 ** **DISCLAIMER****  
 _ _This is based upon the video game franchise__ Bendy And The Ink Machine _ _, all rights for the characters and the world they interact inside belong solely to TheMeatly. We own nothing but the writing.  
Please give credit to those who deserve it. Thank you.__

* * *

The light flickers off once more, taunting the man passing by for the fifth time that night and seemingly laughing at him even though the trudging footsteps don't halt for one second.

It knew it was getting on his nerves. Knew it was slowly making the man go insane from thinking someone was there. Someone who could possibly help him. Someone who was waiting.

Waiting to get punched in the fucking face.

"Fuck you, Drew," Henry Ross growls before pounding his fist on the button he needed to press to apparently turn on the 'ink machine'.

What the fuck even __was__ the ink machine? He's seen it, found a note that commanded him to turn it on, the very reason he wants to just turn tail and leave Joey to fuck with someone else he hasn't seen in thirty years, but he had no idea what the fuck it was __really__ for. Leave it to his so called 'best friend' to go and-

"FUCK!"

The sudden scream was only to drown out the fact the pitch black liquid bursting a pipe and flooding the room made his heart skip a beat. The first time this old hell hole really scared him.

Not the fact there were Bendy cutouts randomly appearing out of no where. Not the fact there was a __dead Boris__ in one of the rooms. Not the fact the man who told him to __never__ come back allowed the place he used to call home in such disrepair seemed to be either hiding or missing.

The one thing that truly made him fear for his life was the fact the pipe bursting and ink flowing all the way up to his knees. Almost like the murky water he had been forced to march through undeterred. Almost like the sound of a gun firing straight at him...

"Fuck you, Drew. Fuck, you," the old animator grumbles as he finally walks up the steps and away from the black abyss attempting to swallow him whole.

Soaked through his boots and pants, that stuck could've fucking killed him. __All of this__ could've fucking killed him. Loose planks falling randomly. Those lights seeming to make a spark connecting and disconnecting whenever he grows near.

 _ _You said you didn't need me Joey. You said everything would be taken care of. And yet thirty years later, and you didn't even have the balls to shut this hell hole down. God Joey...__

Henry sighs before yanking the lever that would apparently power the glorious and needing to be powered ink machine on. And despite the endless circles he wondered through just to get to this moment, he felt proud.

And as the man who had once been banned from the very halls he remembered so fondly so many years ago, his chin was held high.

Now he can find Joey. There were no more notes to be read. There were no more items to be found. Fuck those lights and whoever thought he couldn't break the door down with just his bare hands. He was almost there. The feeling of something big and important going to happen.

Henry was finally-

 _ _...those boards weren't always there.__

In seconds the nearest item to his hand is picked up, not a single sound traveling across the small hallway to the sudden wooden planks placed haphazardly across the doorway he went through not even ten minutes ago.

Whoever put them there didn't understand how to properly block someone off without using too much supplies. Possibly didn't have complete control over their limbs. Possibly in too much of a hurry.

They were waiting. To kill him. To harm him. To pull some fucked up joke on him. It didn't matter. His hammer wasn't ideal, but it was the only thing that wouldn't kill them immediately or cause a wound that could become fatal due to the ink surrounding them. And if he really needed to, he will kill them.

A nod to confirm the thoughts and Henry casually walks toward the planks, footsteps loud and even to show he was unafraid. Prepared. But also to trick them and think he doesn't know what will happen.

He won't go blindly into a trap. He was Henry Ross. He will fight for his life no matter what the cost is. Fight for the lives of others no matter if it costs his own. Protect innocents and make those who deserve it pay.

Joey will either be safe inside his own studio, or get his ass kicked trying to pull something like-

"*POP*ING HELL!"

"FUCK!"

Henry stumbles back from the towering form that had attempted to reach out and grab him. It had been close, with claw like hands attempting to slice at him, expecting the man to be vulnerable and unable to defend himself.

The hammer worked far better than he thought, but he almost wish it hadn't.

Because that wasn't a person. No one was nine feet tall and with a smile that was so damn __familiar__. Ink that not only covered them but seemed to be __apart__ of them.

Those claws were white with three marks. That smile only teeth even as a frown. The ink dripping over one pie-cut eye and allowing it to be somewhat visible. The space the hammer hit directly below two devil horns curved in toward each other.

He drew it so many times. He __created__ it, even. Before Joey took his idea and changed it. Before he was sent away to never come back. Before he was forced to fight for not only his life but the lives of others.

It can't be. It can't. Joey's playing a sick, cruel joke. This can't be __real__. That, it's not, he __drew__ him, and now, that's not really...

" _ _Bendy__?"

The hand now confirmed to be a cartoonish glove, mutated but still rubbing pitifully at his head as if in pain to pause and look down at the man before him. The ink suddenly seems to disappear, drawing backwards to reveal a little bit more of that heart-shaped face he drew and traced over so many times. Those pie-cut eyes full of so many emotions other than a haunting joy.

"Okay, I have to admit, good shot. But __seriously__? You had to try and bash my head in with a *POP*ing __hammer__?"

The expression turns surprised when said weapon drops to the floor if a bit eerily. The clattering doesn't help in calming down the quickening breaths being taken. The frantic steps going backwards.

"No. No. Not fucking real. Not fucking __real__ ," Henry breathes.

The apparent demonic version of his little darling devil glares darkly at that, turning toward the animator, his __real__ creator completely, gloves dripping with ink once more as his motions turn hostile. Angry.

Painful.

"Never thought your sins would come back to haunt you?"

A board snapped in half by one glove alone.

"Never thought we'd __remember__ , did you?"

A stumble backwards as the form seems to grow even taller.

" _ _Did you__!"

The shake of the head and a roar as another board is broken.

" ** **You will pay for what you have done****!"

There was no answer other than the fading sound of Henry sprinting away from the monstrosity.

" ** **GET BACK HERE! YOU TRAITOR!****

" _ ** **I WILL END YOU****_!"

It not real. It's not __real__. Wake up. It's a dream, a nightmare. Yet another hallucination just wake

"UP!"

Henry leaps cleanly over the claws reaching out from the puddle of ink suddenly flowing down from the walls. The ceiling. __Every where__. His home was no longer safe. He was forever damned to never return to Joey Drew Studios like he had so long ago. Those days were over.

And considering how everything became, with Joey turning this into a living hell filled with real life __monsters__ , he __glad__ he was sent away. Banned from this __wretched place__.

He never wants to come back. Bendy can go fuck himself. Created him. __Betrayed him__. Only Joey can call him a traitor.

 _ _Only Joey can call me a-__

That's when Henry fell, hand reaching for the exit just within his grasp, only to have the very ground, his entire world, ripped out from underneath him.

Maybe it was a good thing he fell deeper into this little pit of hell. Because it was either fall to his death, or allow his own creation to murder him without a second thought. He didn't know about anyone else, but this was the better way to go in his opinion.

If only he knew...


End file.
